


Ships are fallible I say

by girlwithabird42



Series: Once more for the ages [24]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Sailing, the sea calls us home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 08:16:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20189143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithabird42/pseuds/girlwithabird42
Summary: A Drake returns to the high seas, or at least open waters.





	Ships are fallible I say

Inevitably, restlessness sets back in the longer they aren’t working. Nate’s learned over the years to accept it for what it is. He’s not interested in running away to cure it anymore, just wait it out like bad weather and it’ll pass soon enough.

Still, his eyes keep drifting to the window during his session with Josh though. It’s a bad habit.

“You here?” Josh asks, snapping Nate back to the present.

Nate blinks, then runs a hand over his face. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry about that.”

Josh resumes, “We talked about the hiatus being its own challenge already. Now that things are becoming regular with Cassie, you’re getting anxious again. It’s natural. You don’t have the same active outlet as when you’re working.”

Nate chuckles, “Yeah, and the gym is not the same thing, whatever people say.”

“Have you tried exploring what you could find to keep yourself similarly occupied in the meantime? Drawing’s a good hobby, but it’s not enough. Calling whatever it is you need a hobby might be a stretch, but people have hobbies for a reason.”

Nate’s only just starting to catch up on sleep, he’s not sure he can work something new in.

“Well, have you heard there’s an eight-month old in my house?”

Nate thinks Josh’s face flickers with a look not dissimilar from the nuns; unimpressed at Nate’s smart aleck remark. That or it wasn’t that funny.

Nate sighs, “There isn’t a whole lot that does what a good discovery does. I need… adventure.” It sounds ridiculous coming from a guy in in his forties, but it is what it is.

“You’re a creative guy. You’ll think of something.”

A week later, Nate’s flipping through one of Cassie’s many picture books with her, pointing out the parts of animals and things that the illustrations don’t.

“Once we’ve got you reading and writing I’ll show you how to fix up books yourself when they don’t say enough,” he tells Cassie. “That’s something mom won’t show you how to do right.”

Cassie only burbles in response.

They must have gone through this book at least dozen times but when he turns to the page of things found in the ocean, Nate’s eye is drawn to the sailboat bobbing on the waves. He has his answer.

Elena humors him as he hovers over her shoulder as they research classes starting in the late spring online.

“You better take me out with you once you’ve got it all figured out,” she teases.

“Only if you learn all the shanties,” he counters.

Elena laughs, “If they’re not teaching them to you in class, it’s a rip off.”

Nate shrugs, “I’ll still be counting on you to do all the yo-ho-ing.”

A month later, Nate sits down for his therapy session.

“I’m gonna try sailing.”

\----------

“Learn things, have fun. Play nice with the other kids,” Elena jokes as they pull into the marina parking lot.

Nate rolls his eyes, reaching for his lunchbox in the back seat and stretching the extra bit to give Cassie a raspberry-like kiss goodbye. She kicks her legs in delight at the noise; Nate narrowly avoids getting kicked in the chin.

“See you later,” Nate says, giving Elena a swift kiss on the lips, then heads out of the car.

The instructor does a double-take at Nate when he checks in. “Drake? Really?”

Nate’s not sure what he’s recognizing and just laughs it off. “Yup, really.”

Unfortunately, they don’t get out on a boat the first day. It’s a lot of lecturing and note-taking.

Nate tries to focus but keeps sneaking peeks at the boats outside. He’s reasonably sure he’s drawing of the lines and rigging is better than the one on the whiteboard, even if his boat has an imagined figurehead on the bow.

Right at the end they go out and actually look at the boat. Nate’s hands are already practically itching to be on the tiller, though he’ll admit to himself he’s a little nervous about the lack of motor. Age has made him more cautious, not that it’s a bad thing.

“How was your first day?” Elena inquires when he gets in the car later in the afternoon.

“Let’s hope we’re on the water next week,” Nate sighs, the sailboats bobbing in the distance.

They do get on boats the following class, paired off with the instructor following them out on a motorboat.

The boat they’re on isn’t at all like the one he and Elena lived on, or like a motorboat, or the cruise ship that sank underneath him. It takes a moment to get used to the up and down rocking of water flowing underneath them.

“This is way different than living on a boat,” Nate jokes out loud.

“You used to live on a boat and you don’t know how to sail?” his partner Brian says, shocked.

Nate’s voice goes high with indignation, “It was a much different kind of boat!”

“Okay! Chill out, old man!”

Nate snorts at being called ‘old man’ but it’s what he is and there isn’t a novel called _The Old Man and the Sea_ for nothing.

“Better late than never, right?” Nate grins; Brian eases up.

For a moment, Nate can almost imagine Drake or Avery there and the freedom a good three-master provides. The wind at his back and the salt water spray is right. Nate’s no longer in any time and place other than the water.

He blinks and realizes they’re picking up too much speed and drifting away from the rest of the class.

“Oh crap, let’s come about,” he says to Brian, readying the sheet.

“Thought we were going out to the open ocean there for a second,” Brian chuckles.

Not yet, but soon.

\----------

The final class is an overnight in the Gulf; Nate tucks Drake’s astrolabe in his bag.

“And what if there’s a squall and you lose it?” Elena points out. “You’ll be kicking yourself for that.”

Nate shrugs, “It isn’t the only thing of his I’ve consigned to the deep. And it’s more useful out there than it is packed away.”

“I suppose,” Elena agrees, fiddling with the vintage camera Nate bought her for her last birthday. Setting time aside for her to work on her own project soon means it’ll be Nate’s turn to be the primary parent for a while.

“My thing’s so much less expensive,” Elena teases.

“Hey, that camera wasn’t cheap. The seller knew I was a sucker and was totally willing to overspend.”

Elena laughs, “Thanks for letting yourself get ripped off for me. It’s sweet.”

It doesn’t matter what kind of boat he’s on, Nate doesn’t think he’ll ever be over sunsets on the water. It’s a shame he almost always draws in black and white mediums, but Elena’s good enough for the two of them at capturing color.

Brian looks incredulous when Nate pulls out the astrolabe, just for kicks. “You got a sextant in there too?”

“Left that in my other pants.”

Nate lets him look at it while he adjusts the jib.

“It’s wild anyone found anything without GPS,” Brian marvels.

“That attitude never got anyone anywhere,” Nate chuckles.

“Says the guy who lived on a boat for a year.”

“You got me there,” Nate puts his hands up. “You mean you don’t want to break off from the group and head to Mexico tonight?”

“Is it bad, I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not?”

They both laugh.

Brian’s been a good teammate, mostly there to learn and not stab him in the back, not that Nate should suspect him of the last part. Still, Nate would much rather it was Elena. Sam. Sully. Cassie, when she’s old enough.

There’s light pollution on the horizon to the north; Nate keeps looking south as night falls. He’s seen more stunning vistas sure, but the night sky and all its stars aren’t half bad here.

Everyone sails back to the marina a little drowsy the next morning. Nate picks up coffee for himself and Elena on the way back home. He plops the coffee and the astrolabe in front of Elena working at the kitchen table.

“Thank you, you’re a saint,” Elena says, unable to suppress a yawn.

Nate snorts, “I’ve never been mistaken for that before.”

“I’m serious, I only just got Cassie down. I think she was having a tantrum because she knew you were having fun without us.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry; I’ll have my payback in a few weeks.” Finally glancing at the astrolabe, “I see you didn’t lose the priceless sixteenth-century artifact we just stuff in a closet.”

“Even let the college kid play with it.”

“How big of you.”

Smirking, “What can I say, I’ve very generous.”

Elena gives him a drowsy smile then turns back to her work.

“Hey.” Nate reaches across the table when she looks up, taking her chin in his hand. “Thank you. That meant a lot.”

Elena covers his hand with hers. “I know. I’m glad it helped.”

They hold for a moment before breaking apart; Elena back to typing on her laptop, Nate sipping his coffee until Elena abruptly looks up. “Does this mean you want a sailboat?”

“You offering?”

“Hell no. _Way_ too expensive and I’m not getting ripped off like you.”

Still, she smiles. One day maybe, but for now, Nate’s good.

\----------

They’ve traded off budgets; Elena looking over Nate’s calculations for the household while he skims her notes for the show. Nate can handle doing one account but he goes cross-eyed once a second set of numbers are dropped in front of him.

“Not a bad year,” he says pushing the laptop away and leaning back in his chair. Elena’s math is always good; she doesn’t really need him to double-check. Besides, they pay people to _really_ take care of the budget for the show.

“I’d say we made out pretty well,” Elena agrees, looking up. She takes her glasses off, rubbing her eyes from similar strain, but when she’s done, Nate doesn’t miss the look on her face, the one she gets when she’s cooking up some idea.

His mouth quirks up into a grin, “You gonna share with the class?”

Elena purses her lips, but then smiles. “I was thinking about finishing up our household improvements…”

Nate furrows his brow. They finished renovating the other house into their office already. Sure, there are a few more things they could do, but nothing he’s immediately budgeted for.

“What do we have left? We definitely have enough to pay for it, whatever you’re thinking.”

In the years since its premiere, _Drake and Fisher Fortunes_ has exploded. Not that they were hurting before, but they’re a comfortable now that comes close to rivaling what any of their lost cities could have brought them.

Elena’s still grinning, “Remember talking about buying a boat? I think we have enough to do that sooner rather than later.”

Nate never would have guessed that in a hundred years, but maybe he should have.

He chuckles, “You know this is the second time you’ve wanted to buy a boat. Is there something you’re not telling me? Orlando Bloom stashed somewhere?”

Elena shoves him, “Hey, _we_ haven’t bought anything yet and at least I gave you fair warning this time.”

“Still nothing about Orlando Bloom, though.”

“You’re the only pirate for me.”

Placated, Nate muses out loud. “We are kind of rich now. So long as we’re not robbing Cassie of any future PhD ambitions, we can swing it.”

Elena snorts, “Please, the boat won’t be nearly as expensive as her PhD. That’s when we’ll be broke again.”

Nate deadpans, “She’ll have that covered with every genius scholarship, so we shouldn’t even have to pay for it.”

Just at Elena’s suggestion, Nate’s excitement to get back on the water builds exponentially.

After dropping Cassie off at school one day, he prods Elena, “We gonna go look now?”

“You’re like a kid at Christmas.”

Sarcastically, “I don’t know what you mean.”

The class in New Orleans feels like a lifetime ago as they walk around the sales lot, boats upon boats on their hitches. Nate finds himself standing front of one thirty-footer he can’t tear himself away from.

Elena comes up from behind, propping her chin on his shoulder. “This is still going to be every birthday and Christmas present for a while.”

“I’m fine with that. You okay with it too?”

“Yeah, you owe some trips out.” After a moment, “What are we gonna name her?”

Nate doesn’t let Elena sneak a peek as he paints the boat’s new name on the stern, but he catches Cassie looking under the tarp. “Hey! Don’t ruin the surprise!”

She giggles and dashes off, Vicky barking at her heels.

Once the paint’s dry, Elena brings out a bottle of champagne for them; sparkling cider for Cassie.

“Do I get to smash this on the bow?” Elena grins.

“What, ruin the fiberglass and waste booze?”

“How silly of me.”

“Before we pop anything, wanna help me pull this off?” Nate offers one corner of the tarp to Cassie. “On the count of three: one, two –”

“Three!” Cassie yanks hard, revealing the boat’s newly-christened name.

Elena’s hand covers her mouth for a moment. Voice thick with emotion, “The _Kingfisher_.”

“I like the bird,” Cassie comments, running her finger along the silhouette. Nate winces, waiting for the smear, but it’s dry.

“Shall we toast?”

“Absolutely.”

They pass their bottle between them; Cassie only takes a couple sips of her cider before declaring she doesn’t like the bubbles.

Elena gently nudges him. “Now we just have to get her on the water.”

\----------

For all her excitement at getting out on the sailboat, Cassie starts acting her age as soon as Nate presents her with a life jacket.

“No, I don’t wanna,” she crosses her arms with a scowl Nate swears could rival Sam’s.

“It’s in case you fall in,” he explains.

“I’m not gonna and I can swim,” she protests.

In a pool or with her hand firmly grasping Nate or Elena’s arm in the ocean.

“I know you can, but swimming out there is different. Do this for me, please.” Nate can feel his patience wearing thing and he’d really rather not have the family outing spoiled because Cassie had a tantrum and he snapped.

Thankfully, Cassie gives in, awkwardly trying to get her arms through the vest. Nate helps buckle her in and when it’s done, he has to bite down hard on his lip to keep from laughing. The vest is just ever so slightly too large for her, even at the smallest size and comes up to her ears, looking completely ridiculous.

“Even pirates wanted to be safe sometimes,” he says by way of placation as he picks her up and walks down the dock.

“We all set?” Elena asks as she puts the cooler onboard.

“Finally,” Nate says, saving a discussion about Cassie’s attitude for later.

Out on the water, Cassie’s happy to watch the waves splash by as the bow cuts through them. Preoccupied himself, Elena’s own quick hand is at the ready should Cassie lean too far.

The repetitiveness quickly bores Cassie and she turns her attention on Nate. “Can I sail?”

“Sure, come here.”

She climbs into his lap and he puts the sheet into her small hands, still maintaining the tension one-handed. “You need to hold it like this, okay?”

Cassie nods and very carefully Nate lets go, stealthily tucking the end of the sheet under his foot.

Unfortunately, Cassie catches him. “No, I wanna do this myself!”

Nate glances at Elena over Cassie’s life jacket with a look of ‘be ready for a jolt’.

“Okaaay,” Nate says tentatively.

As he takes pressure off the line in a matter of seconds the sail buffets out, jerking the boat forward as the bow dives, then quickly loses momentum as the wind spills out.

“Okay, okay, help!” Cassie squeals in a panic.

Years of reflexes kick in as Nate snatches the rope before it rips out over the water. Even after hauling it in, it takes a moment to catch the wind again.

“Can I still help?” Cassie asks in a small voice.

“Yeah, I mean who else is going to be my first mate?”

“Mommy?”

Nate thinks, “Okay, maybe you’re the first mate and she’s the captain.”

“Which makes you what, the cabin boy?” Elena jokes.

Nate wags his eyebrows, “You can order me to swab your deck.”

Elena laughs at his dumb joke and it sails right over Cassie’s head. She doesn’t even ask what they’re laughing about, the tip of her tongue out in concentration at her own sailing assistance.

“You’re getting good at this, Cassie. Pretty soon you’ll be sailing me and mommy around all by yourself.”

“Can I take the life jacket off?” she asks expectantly.

“No,” Nate and Elena say in unison; Cassie doesn’t protest further.

Not now, but maybe sooner than Cassie thinks.

\----------

Fresh off a job, Sam has a hug for Elena, a half-toss in the air for Cassie, and a scratch between the ears for Vicky.

“Okay, let’s see it.”

“See what?” Nate asks.

Sam glances at him sideways, “Your attempt at being some sixteenth-century explorer.”

“Oh right.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “‘Oh right’ he says. Would that I were rich enough to forget a wildly expensive purchase like that.”

Elena chuckles as Nate grabs Sam by the arm, muttering ‘Come on, jackass,’ low enough so Cassie can’t hear.

Standing on the dock, Sam says, “Well, it’s no _Fancy_, but it’ll definitely do the trick.”

“You want to go out on it.”

“Yes, of course I want to go out on it,” Sam says impatiently.

Nate grins, “Let me go tell Elena and grab some beer.”

“Be home by dinner,” Elena says after a swift kiss.

“Yup, I’ll be back to help.”

Nate returns with fistfuls of beer; Sam’s cast off some of the lines already.

“Don’t undo my knots!” Nate says in a panic; hurriedly putting the beers down. Sam raises an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve read a few sailing books. Calm down, Nathan.”

“Reading is not the same as doing,” Nate retorts.

But everything seems to be in order, so Nate lays off. Sam cracks open two beers while Nate gets them pushed off.

“So where are we headed to today, little brother?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“As far out as we can.”

Nate and Elena have gone out to the open ocean once or twice, but it behooves them to stay within sight of land. Today can be a little different.

“Yeah, let’s do that. Stop hogging my beer,” Nate reaches out with a free hand.

“Can you drink and sail?” Sam teases.

“It worked okay for Avery and his men.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not end the day with another gut wound.”

Coming from Sam, it’s practically introspection.

“Amen to that.”

They trade off sailing and sitting in equal measure. The wind is strong and in no time, there’s nothing but water and sky around them.

In the flash of a moment without his hand on the tiller, it makes Nate feel small. He’s twelve again and Sam’s seventeen. The whole wide world is open to them. They are also helplessly adrift.

“You here, Nathan?” Sam asks, voice far away.

“Yeah,” Nate clears his throat.

“You know, we probably could have been pretty good sailors back then,” Sam observes, pulling the boat further to the east.

Nate snorts, “Who’s this we? I am.”

“Three-masters are different.”

Nate’s pestering instinct kicks in. “What kind of three-master?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Okay smartass, eighteenth-century ones. Don’t start with that Drake stuff, his boats were just as likely to tip over as they were to sail. Give me eighteenth-century vintage when they were the fastest they’d ever been.”

“And pirates were on the decline,” Nate points out.

“Give us a good crew and we could outrun the law. Cassie could be bossy enough to be the bosun.”

“Only to you,” Nate laughs and glances down at his watch, “Crap, we better start heading back.”

The wind that brought them out dies down in the dusk and it’s dark when they make it back in. Nate dashes ahead to apologize for their tardiness.

“Sorry hon, we lost track of time – what’s this?” he points to the pizza boxes. “We were actually going to cook tonight.”

“Yeah, I was getting hungry,” Elena says. Looking to Sam walking in the door, “You two can make it up and cook dinner tomorrow.”

“That’s fair,” Nate leans down to kiss her; she grins.

“What?” Nate laughs nervously.

Elena casts a glance Sam’s direction who suddenly feigns deep interest in something on the table.

“You taste like the sea,” Elena murmurs. “It’s nice.”

They really need to go further out more often.

\----------

Convincing Sully to go out takes a little more work than anticipated.

“What about putting all your Navy skills to good use?” Nate asks.

Sully waves a dismissive hand, “Whole different can of worms, kid. Besides how much of what you learned at eighteen do you still use?”

“Plenty,” Nate says for contrary’s sake.

Sully rolls his eyes.

“You’ll have fun,” Elena promises Sully.

Sully sighs, but smiles, “Only because you insisted, darlin’.”

Sailing in the dark adds an extra thrill and Nate thinks he loves the Pacific more than he loved the Atlantic, which might be a silly statement, even in his head, but he’ll stick by it.

Sully’s face is briefly illuminated with the click of his lighter. Eyes adjusted to the dark, Nate can make out Sully’s outline gazing skywards. The only visible lights are the stars and the embers at the end of his cigar.

While Nate’s grateful Sully smokes well out of Cassie’s way, the scent is comforting to him. It’s one of the only constants in his life; something of unshakeable assurance.

“So can you tell me where we are based on the stars?” Nate jokes.

“Twenty-two degrees North, one hundred fifty-nine West and don’t be a smartass.”

Laughing, “Come on Sully, you don’t expect anything less of me.”

“Too true,” Sully says wryly.

It’s quiet awhile, the water gently lapping the sides of the boat.

“I only ever did it to piss him off,” Sully says out of the blue.

Nate’s lost. “I’m sorry?”

“Join the Navy. My dad was an Army man and never shut up about it. Way I saw it, military was gonna get me in ‘Nam no matter what; might as well go somewhere I was less likely to get blown up and most likely to get my old man to hate me more.”

Nate remains silent. He’s made some guesses about that over the years, but this is the first time Sully’s fully confessed to it. Fatherhood’s given Nate some perspective and well, screw any parent who intentionally makes their kid feel that way.

Sully’s never done it to him and he’s doing his damnedest with Cassie.

Nate clears his throat. “You definitely got the surviving part right.”

“Eh, chalk that up to being there less than twelve months. I saw too many boys die and the discharge just kept me from being next.” A pause. “There is something poetic about a funeral at sea though.”

Nate chuckles nervously, “You making a final request? Cause I’ll take care of it. In about thirty years.”

In spite of the dark, years of experience makes Nate sure Sully’s smiling. “Yeah, that sounds about right. If you don’t mind, kid.”

“Not at all.”

The evening smells of nothing but salt and smoke and it is safe.

\----------

It’s a fairer wind than Nate’s seen in weeks and although there’s piles of paperwork to be done for their next dig, he will not be dissuaded.

“Come on, we need a break,” he pleads to Elena after the drop Cassie off at school.

The wheels are clearly turning in her head, juggling the daunting amount of work ahead of them and at least a few hours respite.

“Okay, but if we need to field any calls in the next week, I’m making you do it,” she grins.

“Deal.”

Nate grabs the fishing tackle on the way out with a grand idea of fresh-caught dinner, setting anchor when the shore is just a speck on the horizon.

Elena spreads herself out on the deck, starting to read but inevitably drifting off into a sunbathing nap.

“Turn over,” Nate reminds her after about fifteen minutes.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, flipping over onto her back. Sun-kissed and freckled, the old shrapnel scars stand out smooth and white on Elena’s skin.

Nate’s pretty much the only one who sees them these days and they never have an answer for Cassie on the days Elena wears a bikini. Going back to that day turns Nate’s stomach.

Elena catches him staring when she turns over again. Wryly, “Enjoying the view?”

“Hogarth’s line of beauty has nothing on you.”

Elena laughs, “Being compared to chair legs, that’s new.”

“A really good-looking chair, then.”

Elena stands and stretches, then dives straight in, not even shivering at the difference between air and water.

“My wife the daredevil,” Nate laughs in slight awe as she hoists herself back over.

“It’s refreshing,” she insists, wringing out her hair.

“I doubt it.”

“Chicken.”

Before Nate knows what’s happening, Elena snatches the fishing rod out of his hand and gives him a shove. Despite their weight discrepancy, he’s caught off balance and plunges into the water. It feels like ice on his skin.

“Jesus,” he spits up sea water when he surfaces. “You’re nuts.”

“And yet see how well you handled it?”

She’s got a point but Nate doesn’t particularly feel like humoring her at the moment.

“You probably scared off all the fish,” Nate says, fighting chattering teeth as he climbs aboard.

“You’ve got plenty for dinner today,” Elena points out, handing him a warm towel.

Drying off, “Thanks. I guess we should head in, figure out what we’re actually doing with this bounty.”

Elena abandons sunbathing and when she pulls out her cover-up, she also has her camera, taking shots of the day, of Nate. He’s never been shy and he’s got his fair share of drawings of Elena, suggestive or otherwise. It’s only fair she have the same of him.

“Get my good side will you,” he jokes, tensing the ropes for effect.

“I thought you only had good sides.”

“Damn straight.”

Elena carries in the catch while he ties off the boat. They spent the right amount of time out for the day. When Cassie comes home, she immediately notices fresh fish on the grill.

“Aww, you went out without me?”

“Tell you what,” Nate says. “Finish your homework and we’ll see how the weekend looks.”

“Okaaay.”

Cassie passes Elena coming out with the glaze as she heads in to make good on her promise.

“That wasn’t hypocritical, was it?” Nate frowns at himself when Cassie’s out of range.

“A little, but I’m okay with it if so long as we do go out again.”

It’s give and take, just like a sail in the wind.

\----------

The gusts force Nate further north than he would like, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. The challenge is invigorating even; he’s gotten too complacent in his abilities over the years.

Of course focusing on the ever-shifting wind means he isn’t thinking too hard about the untranslated Occitan journal a university sent him last week to try to decode. Its connections to the First Crusade are intriguing but he doesn’t think the French government will be too happy with what it has to say about some of their ‘treasures’ on display.

Taking a moment, Nate wipes at the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. Despite clouds, the sun feels particularly relentless. He needs to wipe it away again a few minutes later, only to realizes it isn’t sweat this time, but rain.

The sun is rapidly being swallowed whole by pitch-dark clouds on the horizon and while the storm is many miles out, Nate’s got a few between himself and any shore, and is not going nearly the same speed.

“Oh crap,” he mutters, hauling the sheet in and reaching over the side as much as he can.

Thunder rumbles so loudly, Nate imagines it sends new ripples across the waves bringing him to shore.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he mutters anxiously, as if it will urge the _Kingfisher_ to go any faster than he’s already pushing her.

Rain mixes with sweat when Nate’s under total darkness and lightning strikes the island he’s making for. He doesn’t see any signs of a dock the closer he gets and has to hastily settle for a notch between two rocks. It’s deep enough that the hull doesn’t drag on the bottom, but the bow will get battered to hell if this storm is going to be as bad as Nate’s thinking.

He jumps out, tying several lines to the nearest tree and moves further in for cover. God help him if the mast makes for the perfect lightning rod and really screws him over.

There’s no signs of civilization as darkness falls. There’s no place that’s completely dry either. Nate settles for a spot behind some trees that’s out of the wind and fishes his phone out of his pocket.

No signal.

“Shit.”

Nate folds his arms across his chest and hunkers down as best he can. The storm doesn’t let up as nighttime comes. Nate’s hands are slick and the phone almost slips from his fingers as he fruitlessly checks it again. He can’t stand the thought of Elena at home, going through the same motions. What’s worse, his phone’s quickly losing battery.

Another hour passes, then two. Everything about Nate is sore and aches. He’s way too goddamn old for this. When he gets signal back, he’s calling Sully and telling him he thought that old chestnut completely unironically.

The rain finally stops after midnight. Still no signal. Nate sort of drifts off, but is never fully asleep.

The sky isn’t pinking, but it is going a light sort of grey many hours later. Despite himself, Nate looks at his phone again. Three bars and nine percent battery. He can’t call Elena fast enough.

There’s only half a ring before she picks up.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Her voice is raspy from lack of sleep.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nate says with a similar exhaustion. “I found a spot to tuck away in before anything happened. Wasn’t the most comfortable place in the world, but I’ve definitely been to worse.”

Elena laughs, but Nate hears a sniffle too. “Hold on a sec.” Muffled, “Baby, dad’s fine. You were right.” Clearer again, “I let Cassie sleep in here with me tonight, but she was sure you found safe harbor.”

“I would’ve done the same if it were you. Sorry I worried you, Elena.”

“S’alright. Just get home, okay?”

“I’m coming, don’t –” is all Nate manages before the phone shuts off.

The boat’s swamped, but there are no holes in the bow, thankfully. Nate bails as fast as his stiff joints will allow. He sets sail and the sun is breaking through to the east when he sets his sight on home again, Elena barely visible on the porch.

Cassie’s tucked back into her own bed; she doesn’t stir when he kisses her forehead. While their bed is warm when Nate collapses into it, Elena’s arms are even warmer as he drifts off.

**Author's Note:**

> How is running away to sea to crew a tall ship still not a valid career move? Nate and I would like to know.


End file.
